


What Is And What Never Should Be

by atozandallinbetween



Category: DCU, DCU (Animated), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atozandallinbetween/pseuds/atozandallinbetween
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bart Allen - Impulse- in the future. In the second half of the 21st century, you have to grow up fast to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Early Years

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by: jex8  
> Thanks to jex8, my wonderful beta, and creepylicious, my amazing artist.  
> Her art can be found [here](http://ischa-posts.tumblr.com/post/100312016824/art-i-did-for-willow19475s-story-never-is-and).
> 
> [It's to a castle I will take you,  
> where what's to be, they say will be.  
> Then what's to stop us, pretty baby,  
> but what is and what should never be.  
> Everybody I know seems to know me well  
> but they're never gonna know that I move like hell.]  
> -Led Zeppelin, What Is and What Should Be
> 
> (In 2056 Bart is 13, 2051 he is 9)

 

What Is And What Should Never Be

 

I. The Early Years

 

"Every future is not far away."

   -Arab Proverb

 

Bart Allen is nine when his Dad dies. His Aunt Dawn is murdered at the same time. They die together, the Tornado Twins, superheroes together to the end. In his era the death of a superhero, even the death of two, is a common occurrence. What is left of the hero community mourns and moves on. 

In recent years, Bart's gotten good at that. 

What remained of the Earth was carefully divided up for alien consumption after the takeover by aliens called the Reach. The takeover was slow and hidden to the public eye. First the Reach were diplomats to the world, then industrialists as they produced cheaper and better versions of food and drink that world needed to survive. World hunger was cured, but the biosphere was ruined. The skies grew clouded, and the green of the Earth faded. As the panics against metahumans worsened, no one noticed the Earth dying around them.

Under the former hero Blue Beetle his territory-formerly North American and South America- is divided into sectors, then units. ‘Civilian’ governments rule under him, in parodies of their former systems of government. The Greater Republic of North and South America is governed by a President, while the former United States is called Sector 2 and is ruled by a council that is elected by the people. (If by the people, one means the Reach, which not-so-secretly controlled all major world governments.)

The facade of democracy is kept up throughout the world. Global communication is slowed down and controlled, to limit communication between different countries and citizens. This is blamed on meta terrorists who oppose the peaceful offerings of the Reach and support the rights of metahumans. Vigilantes are blamed for murders, robberies and all varieties of crimes. Every few months another meta terrorist attack occurs, leaving houses and people decimated. Propaganda is churned out daily, with all media outlets controlled by the government (and therefore the Reach) to “protect against powers”.  TV news station post reports on terrifying statistics and horrible attacks. Many incidents are entirely staged, with those that aren't twisted to incite panic. 

As the people of the world turned against metahumans, superheroes were systemically hunted down and captured, to be experimented on, killed or enslaved.

But still, life goes on.

 

Cities are even more crowded than they were now, filled with massive amounts of people. Metahumans hide their abilities, or spend their lives on the run. The desperate go between the spaces in humanity, the wastelands where the Reach have taken all nutrients, plants and resources from the area. Sticking together in the cities is better; people tend to go missing in the rocky deserts and the poorer sections of the country.

Bart isn’t old enough to remember a world that wasn’t like this. A world that wasn’t as barren, and ugly. But he still knows enough to long for the time before.

 

 

Bart grew up on super hero legends, stories told when no one was watching, in the dusky hours when he could not get to sleep.

His mom, as a relative of a speedster herself, knows to be patient with him as he grows up. Though his time with her is short (she dies before his father and Aunt Dawn) pleasant memories of the the songs she sang to him and the delicious cupcakes she made still linger in his mind.

Still, he doesn’t dwell in the past. In the second half of the 21st century, the grieving process is short; it has to be to survive.

 

The Tornado Twins -Bart’s Aunt and Dad- were some of the last remaining heroes, and the only speedsters left. Years ago, many of the big names had been taken out first. The loss of the seven founders, the core of the Justice League, had crushed the superhero community. They had been mind controlled into completing intergalactic crimes, and then tried and executed on the far off planet, Rimbor. Heroes back on Earth had desperately tried to save them, but couldn’t investigate and fight off the Reach at the same time.

Those left had fought against the Reach, but had been caught when public opinion turned against them.

Now, the only heroes were in hiding or not heroes anymore. Blue Beetle had offered amnesty to any meta who joined him, but of course it came with a price. The now standard brainwashing treatment, and the notorious experiments to help metas “reach their true potential.”

 

After the death of both Allen twins, Max Crandall (sometimes called Max Mercury) took Bart in and trained him as a speedster.

Max had been good to him. Had helped him learn, grow and grieve.

Had been like a father in anything but name.

Still, it wasn’t the same.

How could it be?

 

Max was patient with him, as a former speedster himself. He was gruff and critical at times, but Bart never felt uncared for or unwanted with him. Praise was rare, but that only made the occasional compliments more worthwhile.

The stories Max told him, of traveling through time, of his own origins in the the past as Mercury and Quicksilver always cheered him up. Bart made sure to always tease Max about the originality of his common superhero aliases; Mercury was just so very original and Bluestreak just sounded stupid.  At least Windrunner sounded kind of badass.

Max even told him about teaching his cousin Wally about the speed force and how he helped Wally to be faster. Stories about the relatives he would never meet always saddened Bart, yet he couldn’t get enough of them. They were always his favorite and he always begged Max for more.

 

The first time Bart had seen a picture of Max in his old costume he had felt a lump form in his throat. But then he actually looked at the costume and started to hysterically giggle and snort at his mentor’s embarrassing fashion choices.

Max’s costume had a popped collar with a low v-neck that showed off conspicuous amounts of man cleavage.

“Looking good, Fabio.” Bart could barely get the words out he was laughing so hard.

Max glared at him.

Bart wolf whistled. “That neck, those pecs…. whoa. The ‘Zen Master of Speed’ himself. What a dreamboat. Wow.”

Max’s glare was practically lowering the room temperature to Arctic levels. “It was the ‘60’s. What do you expect?”

Bart just cackled.

Max wasn't really mad. Moments like this were rare for the young speedster, and he made sure to treasure them when he could. Max wouldn't ruin that.

Those teasing, seemingly unfriendly kind of exchanges were typical. Bart loved to mock his mentor, who wasn’t afraid to laugh at him right back. Max was unaccustomed to kids and frequently told Bart he was a troublemaker, but Bart knew it was all bluster.

Max really did feel fatherly affection for this young charge, it was just buried under a veritable bedrock of layered sarcasm and emotional constipation. Something that was all too common in the superhero community.

Sometimes they fought when Bart was feeling headstrong or Max was being particularly controlling, but that didn't change that they were family.

The only family each of them had.

 

Bart didn’t really see his father die. But he saw the beginning of the end.

His dad and Aunt Dawn had rushed out of the door of the apartment in Gotham they had been living in. All the heroes had been on high alert, due to rumors of the Reach’s newest campaign to “eliminate all the remaining vigilantes.” His Aunt Lian (who wasn’t really his Aunt) had just sighed and poured him some chocolate milk over his Frosted Flakes. As the only one who told him cool stories about his So-called Uncle Wally and his team and taught him useful skills like how to pick locks (not boring math and history lessons), she was his secret favorite.

A report of “Hero Hunters” (the colloquial name for the new Metahumans Against Terrorism Squad) attacking an apartment building location and apprehending a meta terrorist and an “enemy against the State” had started to play live on the TV screen.

Grainy footage showed the royal blue clad soldiers surrounding the building above and around. Several fliers stayed perched on the rooftop out of sight ready to take down any metas while others with powers more useful in close combat stormed the building through various entrances. The camera person moved closer to the scene, narrating all the while.

It was a girl and she sounded young. And angry.

Around her people too stupid to know any better where gathering.

As she moved in closer, shouting could be heard in the building.

The crowd tensed and grew in anticipation, waiting for something to happen.

And it did. And it changed everything.

His Aunt made him go out of the room. But he peeked around the corner and saw everything.

Sometimes he still sees her face in his nightmares. 

 

The Brooklyn Incident (as it was called) marked the real end of the public’s support  for heroes.Blue Beetle’s Reach Empire had been pushing for the eradication of superheroes but it hadn’t really stuck. The Watchtower bombing had ended the lives of many heroes (either indirectly, or through the information the Light had given to the Reach) and crushed the fighting spirit of many others, but most people had still supported their friendly neighborhood vigilantes.

Until public opinion had really started to turn against the heroes, with the Brooklyn Incident. Sure Reach propaganda and the various brainwashing tactics the Reach had put into motion had swayed the opinions of the weak minded, but still many had resisted. Many had still believed in heroes and had been inspired by them.

But tragedy had struck and people- children- had died.

The public- not just Reach puppets- had started to demand accountability against metahumans. People started to wonder about the collateral damage involved with powers. The wake of destruction left behind by fights between superhumans.

Other "accidents" occurred. The lines started to blur between "superhero" and "supervillain".

More metas were captured and "reeducated" each day. The really strong willed heroes were killed.

Slowly and systematically heroes were hunted down. Hotlines to catch "unwanted vigilantes" were called on the minute. The heroes who resisted arrest were investigated and their secret identities exposed.

The worse part was the Reach weren't the main hunters. Many of the ordinary people had turned in the superheroes who had labored to protect them. Of course, they couldn't really be blamed. At least, that's what Bart tried to tell himself. But that didn't stop the slow burning rage against everything connected to the Reach, including the people who blindly accepted their rule.

They were scared and brainwashed, and Bart knows just how hard it is to stay strong against the vast multitudes who disagree with you.

Fear was a terrible thing. And they had reason to be afraid.

Many metas had terrifying powers, and many did terrible things.

Still there were those like his father and Aunt who had been killed protecting the very same civilians that turned on them. 

 

 

 

Most of Bart’s young life has been spent on the run. His life was normal once (or as normal as the son of a speedster could be). That was before his family was branded as fugitives though.

His dad and his Aunt’s identities were exposed to the public. By proxy his is exposed to, although he is put on any watch lists. The Reach just knows who he is. The same happened to many other heroes.

Bart was seven when they had to go into hiding, and nine when his dad died. His father made Max his Godfather, because he was a mentor to them and Bart’s Uncle Wally. 

 

What Bart saw that day:

A young girl is dragged out of the building. She is only a teenager, dressed in ratty clothing and shouting. The camera jostles and then refocuses on her. She is cuffed, visibly pregnant and blood is dripping down her face. The crowd roars and surges forward at the sight of her

She screams and flames start to lick at her hands. The crowd draws back in shock, then surges forward at this sign of meta powers. The guards tug at her arms; she throws them off and claws frantically at their eyes, necks, anywhere she can reach. Someone has a baseball bat in the crowd, and starts to use it to hit the guards. They let go of the girl, and she is engulfed by the crowd. The screaming is louder. The camera girl is frantically cursing and moving closer, shoving past people, kicking, anything she can do to help.

Someone else rushes out of the building. He is clearly the girl’s brother, with the same mocha skin tone and curly hair. He shouts, his face horrified.

The crowd moves back, and his sister is left lying there, curled into herself. Blood is pooled around her, in splotches and splatters. The boy runs to her, tripping at the last second and landing on all fours next to his dead sister. He hugs her to his chest and howls in grief.

The crowd hovers for a moment, teetering for a second between bloodlust and shame.

The shame seems to win out, and they draw back from the tableau of grief in their midst.

The guards start to approach the boy. He lifts his head, and zeroes in on something an older man is holding.

The necklace his sister was wearing. (It was their mother’s, and the only thing of value they had left.)

At this last thing taken from them, his sorrow turns suddenly to rage. He raises a hand, reaches deep inside for the powers he always had, but rarely used, and a fire starts to glow between his two hands. The guards starts forward, the crowd moves back, but they are too late. He brings his hands apart, and the crowd sees: it’s not a flame, it’s an explosion.

Smoke engulfs the screen, and the cameragirl is knocked over. The only sound that can be heard is an awful screech. She grabs the phone and the camera wobbles as she tries to stand.

Bodies are strewn throughout the street, body parts lying everywhere. She limps towards the wreckage, and then she sees it. A young child is standing on a street corner. She is holding a dismembered hand. Next to her, a car has crushed the rest of her mother’s body against a wall. The streets are strewn with body parts, rubble and blood. The air is filled with sobbing, yells and the sound of sirens.

The worst part of this: innocents were caught in the crossfire. It happened too suddenly and too powerfully for many to be spared.  

The total damage count: 20 fatally wounded, 10 dead, 5 severely injured.

It is the first of many such disasters to come.

 

Incidents like these sometimes go unnoticed. The media doesn't pay attention, or people don't see the controversy.

But some gruesome public tragedies like these incite the nation. 

She was a young pregnant teenager, clearly not white or financially stable. Worst of all, she had a metagene. Some called her a blight on society, living off of welfare. Some looked at her brother, and his arrest record. The robberies and the fights he had been in. The jail time. 

Others empathized with the two and called it a senseless killing.

Newspapers and news stations dug into their past, their lives, any information they could get their hands on.

A anti meta news agency was attacked. A protest turned violent, with attendees turning on police and National Guard personnel.

The President spoke out about the issue, citing a need to compromise and understanding.

The riots got worse, and the incidents occurred more often. Stories emerged of meta children getting kicked out of their homes and coming back to kill their parents.

People were scared.

Religious groups, political groups, activists, everyone had an opinion. Pamphlets protesting 'The Meta Agenda' were circulated. Propaganda posters were all over.

        

 

Damage reports from the activities of superheroes showing the millions, even billions of dollars it cost to clean up after these vigilantes were published (with a huge push from Lex Luthor, of course.) Criminal experts looked at nationwide statistics of crime rates and concluded 'heroes were unnecessary', in huge 36 pt font across the front of the Gotham Times. 

People who were anti superhuman started to be elected into office. They promoted the idea of government regulated heroes, with real accountability, who protected real people.

Mayhem ensued as riots occurred across the United States. Protesters marched on Washington and camped out in front of the Hall of Justice.  President Doe put Blue Beetle in charge of an increasingly militarized police force. The riots died down as protesters and heroes were arrested or killed. The United States and South America were merged into one big 'democracy'. As global chaos continued to erupt, other countries looked at the apparently thriving, prosperous Republic of North and South America. The Reach further infiltrated other world governments, endeavoring to bring them to their knees in fear of meta humans and superpowers. Gradually, many countries were bribed, manipulated or forced into coming under indirect Reach control. 

Still, some countries fight back.

 

All of these things Bart learned from Max, his mentor and teacher. Some of Max’s stories were incessantly yawn-worthy and he spent a lot of time teaching Bart about boring things like ‘control’ and mediation and stuff Bart liked to sleep through. And the super boring lectures about United States History. Bart hated those.

Despite being a fugitive and an unregistered meta Bart still had to deal with boring things like school.

Of course he did get to learn cool skills like self defense... and biology... and chemistry... Bart just loved SCIENCE really.

 

Max and Bart are expert scavengers, coming from a life on the run. His years in the past leave Max with advanced survival knowledge.

They spend their days living in unexpected locations in crowded cities or squatting in abandoned buildings in the suburbs.

Nowadays, the majority of the population is clustered together in cities, guided by some primal instinct to find safety in numbers. The countryside is ravaged by the impacts of fighting between the Resistance and the government. Work camps, meta-prisons and factories are on the outskirts of huge megacities.

The world is dirtier, louder and grimmer than before. Still, it’s all Bart has ever known. Despite the stories of when things were better, he doesn’t really know what it’s like to not be always aware of his surroundings or to trust people you’ve only just met.

Survival is his number one priority.

 

They’ve stayed in some strange places. A rundown strip mall, an abandoned suburban home in a ghost town of a neighborhood, an apartment in a crowded city (paid for in cash, of course). The list goes on and on.

They are constantly on the move, visiting friends of Max’s.

They always pack light and are ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Bart doesn’t grow too attached to anyone or anything.

As long as he keeps his (prepaid, disposable, one location use) cell phone on him at all times, Max lets him explore wherever they are on his own. He makes friends easily, but is always vague in the details he tells them. He is friendly and charming, his naturally bubbly personality and excellent lying skills almost guaranteeing friends in every city.

He knows the best places to get rations for little money or traded items everywhere they go and is on speaking terms with the merchants. Bart is an excellent negotiator and is a master at using the bartering system to get what he wants.

When he isn’t exploring, or getting lessons from Max, or running errands for Max in whatever location they are in, he hangs around restaurants or anywhere with food really. The infamous speedster metabolism has him always starving.

Still, Max has taught him well. Bart knows how to take care of himself. 

He lives a good life, exploring the world he lives in. But then, of course, his life suffers another huge upheaval. 

 

When Bart is twelve, armed guards break into the abandoned warehouse Max and Bart had been living in for several weeks.

Bart awakes from the pile of blankets he had been sleeping on to the sound of raised voices.

“Max Mercury!” They shout. “You are under arrest for treason, for leading a mutiny against the Great and Glorious Reach Empire.” Bart peeks over the edge of the catwalk he had been sleeping on and surveys the scene.

First he notices the two men. They shout, “In the name of the Sacred Scarab himself, we have no choice but to arrest you.”

Max is holding a gun and facing the two, who are clad in full police riot gear, the standard equipment all of the People’s Army in America were issued. The red headed boy wrinkles his brow. Treason? Max would never-

The men continue, as Max makes tiny shooing noises at the head he can see poking slightly over the catwalk. “You will be given a fair trial, by the City Council of Liberation elected by the free and fair city of Chicago.”

Bart rolled his eyes as he crept to the ladder leading down to the main floor of the warehouse. Whenever a government felt the need to tell you, loudly and frequently, how democratic they were, the more you can be sure they were the opposite.

Everyone who wasn’t an idiot knew Blue Beetle’s Republic of North and South America was no exception. Of course, Blue Beetle wasn't the official leader- all of the territories had their own individual figureheads of Presidents'- but as the commander of all armed forces located in the Republic he had all of the control.

Max starts to slowly put down his gun, keeping his peripheral vision locked onto Bart. He just has to give the kid enough time to run away. If Bart didn't do anything stupid it would be-

Bart rushed at the guard on the left, tackling him with all the strength in his skinny body.

The guard is knocked down, due to Bart’s speed. Bart turns to face the other guard, only to discover Max has already disabled him.

But the guard is a metahuman with an extra gun.

"I'm sorry." Max's eyes are warm, but Bart can't hold eye contact. He mouths "Go!", but Bart can’t move.

One of the soldiers takes aim from behind Max and fires.

Max is unaware and Bart doesn’t see it in time.

Bart moves but he isn’t quick enough. 1,000 meters per second, and the bullet is faster then he is. 

Max had been the one who taught him how to vibrate through solid objects. Mac had called him his nephew. Max had taught him calculus. Max had told him what sex was!

Max was the closest thing he had to a dad.

All of this blinked through Bart’s mind as Max falls. Bart takes off. The soldiers shoot after him. He runs up the ramps, onto the streets. He runs, and runs, barely recognizing where he is going.

The whoosh of the wind, and the flow of the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins starts to slow. He stumbles, and falls onto his face. Head spinning, he looks around. He passes out. After weeks of sparse food and rations, he is weak and lethargic. Only through sheer adrenaline was he able to run that far.

What seems like hours later, he is awoken by the faint sound of footsteps. Bart blinks, and through heavy eyelids he sees two man walking towards him. Their faces are obscured, but Bart notices the weapons before his head falls back.

 

His head is spinning; all he wants to do is sink down into the comfy bed around him.

Wait- comfy bed? There is no way he’s back in the storage warehouse he and Max had been staying in for months. Adrenaline shoots through his body, trying to counter the lethargic effect unconsciousness had on him.

He centers his mind, taking in slow, deep breaths to counter the effects of unconsciousness. As a speedster he has an advantage over other people, recovery from practically anything is faster.

He slows his breathing and keeps stills, extending his sense of hearing to determine where he is. He's lying on something soft, most likely a bed. There's a faint hum in the background, some kind of technology perhaps? Someone clears a throat; Bart feigns deeper sleep. Long, deep breaths and a loose body.

"We know you're awake."

He blinks his eyes open and slowly sits upright, fighting the nausea.

Two unfamiliar figures are staring at him. They're wearing masks- and what looks like costumes. Superhero costumes?

But of course they couldn't be. All capes were outlawed and costumes were forbidden. (Except for the 'uniforms' of Blue Beetle and his special Task Force to hunt down traitors and rebels.)

"Kid." Bart swallows. The man who speaks is well built and tall, with a domino mask. His hair is brown with a shock of white in it. "We need your help." Bart looks at the veritable factory of weapons strapped to the man and raises an eyebrow. "No seriously, we do."

Who are these people?


	2. A New Way of Living

II. A New Way of Living

"You can call me J."  
"I'm," Bart notes the other man's pause. "Richard."  
The first man inhales faintly and glares at 'Richard'. (If that is his real name.)  
"Really?" Bart puts as much sarcasm as he can into a simple word.  
"You're an Allen, right kid?"  
Bart narrows his eyes. "Why? Who is really asking?"  
The second man holds up a communicator. "Who do you think?  
On the small device is a familiar symbol; one made notorious all over the world.  
The symbol of a bat.

The room is completely nondescript, with gray stone walls and no windows. The only items are a bed and a desk.   
The two men in it with Bart are much more intriguing.   
"How did you know?" Bart is suspicious.  
"Know what?"  
"My family."  
Jay smirks. "Well, for one the going Mach 1 on in a 35 mph zone was my first clue."  
Bart glared. "How are you acquainted with my family?"  
Richard snickers. "We've had the," The pause is poignant and blisteringly sarcastic. "Pleasure of working with some of them. Lucky. Us."  
Bart decides Richard is his least favorite.   
"We've known the Flashes very well. We've worked with them, been good friends with some of them. Bats even tolerated them, which is more then most got. The point is we know how to train you as a Bat and as a speedster."  
Bart raised his eyebrows. "You mean you can train me to a ninja? Like you guys?"  
Richard's eye twitched. Jay suppressed a grin. "Kind of."  
"Are you goes actual Bats? Like from Gotham, trained by Batman?  
The two men exchange glances. "Mostly. Not completely, but mostly."   
Bart raises an eyebrow.   
Richard rolls his eyes. "Well we definitely weren't trained by anyone incompetent, so that rules out half the superhero community."  
Bart narrows his eyes. "What does that mean? And what do you want with me?"  
"We need your help." J seems to be the calmer of the two. "You're the only one who can help us." Richard seemed to have... issues. Deep seated anger issues that caused him to intone every sentence with biting sarcasm.  
"Trained by Batman, kid. I got issues with him, but one thing's for sure. The man was a hell of a survivor. And he taught us what he knew. Stick with us, and we can figure out a way to stop this."  
Bart cocked his head. "What? You mean the end of Blue Beetle and the Reach." This life is miserable, for sure, but it's all Bart has ever known. "How is that even possible?"  
They converse with their eyes, and Bart rolls his eyes at yet another discussion he is not privy to.  
"We need to know if you'll do it."  
"We need you kid."  
"Why?" The reason couldn't be good.  
"Well," Jay looked sheepish. "What we want you do? The journey would kill a non-meta before anything else. And meta's without inhibitor collars aren't exactly easy to find around here."  
"You could have found someone else. Don't give me that bullshit."  
J sighed. "We knew your father. And the rest of your family. And a speedster is the best choice."  
Richard jumped in. "It's more practical to use a meta whose powers we have a better basic understanding of, as well as-" The pause unnerves Bart. "-other things."  
"Like what?"  
"As a speedster and a relative of the Flash family, you would be uniquely suited to do the job."  
Bart shifted his jaw. "What exactly would I be doing?"  
J looks apologetic. "Look kid, I don't think we can tell you that-"  
"Fuck that. You tell me now, or it's not happening." Bart refuses to go into this with his eyes closed. "I need to know now."  
"It's kind of complicated-" J begins.  
Bart snorts. J sighs, and Richard glares. "Time travel."  
"What?" His mind is stuck for a moment, repeating the same two words over and over.  
J looks at him. "For what it's worth, you'll get to meet your family if you do this." Bart barely hears, too busy standing in shock. He doesn't notice when they both leave, his mind teeming.

A few minutes later (a lifetime for a speedster) he decides these guys are crazy, but playing along with the "time travel" fantasy in exchange for ninja skills for is worth it. 

After he announces his decision to the cameras that he can't see but knows are there, Jay enters the room.   
“For the first part of your training, drop down and give me 200 pushups.”  
“What?!” Bart sputtered. “I can’t-”  
J cocked an eyebrow. “You’ll have as much time as you need. But you won’t be leaving this room until you do 200 pushups. I recommend 8 sets of 25."  
Bart sighed, knelt and started, cursing Bat-training every single second.  
His life was the worst.  
“Kid you’re a speedster. That means running and a super fast metabolism. The only muscle you won’t have trouble putting on is legs and core. So, we work on the other stuff. Besides, this is standard Bat initiation stuff. You're lucky. I had to do 400 pushups. With a time limit. Oh and? After those you'll be fighting me."  
"What?" Bart blinks at him. At the over 6 feet tall, heavily muscled him. J just smirks and turns to leave. "What? No seriously what's after this? What the hell are you serious? Dude-"  
The door closes with a definite slam.  
Bart sighs, gets into the pushup ready position and started to mentally review the Periodic Table of the Elements in his head (along with associated properties).  
When he run out of those, he moved onto common chemical compounds.

"Really? Richard?" The red haired woman is busting a gut laughing. She smacks the keyboard in hysterics, as the object of her amusement pouts. "You told him your name was Richard?"  
"I doesn't see why that's funny." The object of her amusement says stiffly.  
"Oh you glorious idiot." She grins at him fondly. "'Wing he would be proud of you, no matter what. You did good. We can do this."  
"I. Thank you." He smiles slowly at her.  
She snickers. "There we go. There's the famous Wayne grin."  
Nightwing just rolls his eyes.

Bart has spent several weeks training, and he is exhausted, but adapting. His days are spent learning how to fight, pick locks, lie effectively and all other skills Bats’ deem necessary. The worst part: he has to learn how to do everything with and without his powers. Between the practical tests under pressure, the working out and the drills, he spends his time reading through every psychics, mechanical and anything that be possibly related to time travel book ever.  
It is exhausting.  
And so, when Bart is ushered into a room he is aware but not wary.  
That changes as soon as he takes a good look at the inhabitants.  
A small group is clustered around a table. A very odd group.  
A disembodied floating green holographic head, a miniature sized man in a blue costume, a women in a top hat and fishnets.  
Despite all these oddities, Bart narrows in on the real danger in the room.  
Lex Luthor, in the flesh.  
The notorious Head of the Council of Sector 2, otherwise known as the United States. Bart glares at him. "I see you on TV every election year proclaiming the dangers of meta humans. What the hell are you doing here?"  
Lex smirks at him. "I'm against the Reach."  
"Really? I think you mean you're against whatever hurts your interests, and that's all you care about."  
The smile is slow, wide, and toothy. "I'm a man of simple pleasures. Sticking it to snobby aliens is one of them. Now, can we proceed to business."  
Bart looks at J, who nods. He's willing to trust Lex, for now at least. "Fine."  
Lex rubs a hand over the back of his head. "Speedsters can travel forward through time, yes?"  
Bart stays silent. Despite the assurances, he doesn't want to tell Luthor anything.  
Luthor just raises an eyebrow and waits.  
Reluctantly, Bart says. "Yes. Some speedsters can travel through time."  
"Well." Lex smirks. "We are going to reverse that."  
"How? Traveling back in time is supposed to be impossible."  
The women in the top hat smirks. "That's where I come in. Me and the magic."  
Bart scoffs at this. "Magic doesn't exist."  
The women rolls her eyes and promptly makes the table float.  
After the momentary shock and exclamations Bart makes, the group introduces themselves.  
Zatanna the renowned magician, Oracle an accomplished hacker, the Atom a illustrious physicist and of course, the shrewd politician and cutthroat businessman, Lex Luthor.  
"I am still skeptical on how we are planning on building something no one has ever before."  
Luthor smirks. "Actually someone has. People in the future. People from Booster Gold's future, to be exact. A bright and innovative future where the human race has spread all over the galaxy and nothing, not even the past, is safe from change. He visited the Justice League and spent years in our past, but eventually returned to his future. The rightful future of the world. You see Bart, we are meant to do this. The future is meant to be bright. We are meant to succeed. We have to succeed. If the future wasn't good, Booster Gold wouldn't have had the technology to travel back in time. If he hadn't traveled back in time we wouldn't have the technology to change the past to what it should be from studies of how he time traveled. We wouldn't be able to even try to make this time machine."  
"So," Bart takes it all in. "We are recreating a time machine, built thousands of years in the future. With five people. Just how good are the records we have of this time machine?"  
Lex stays confident. "Spotty, at best, but I am a genius. The rest of you aren't so bad yourselves."  
Oracle sighs. "Wow, thanks. You're a charmer, as always Lex."  
"I try, Ms. Oracle. I try." Lex smirks at her. 

They build the time machine through a mixture of crazy physics and magic. The process makes sense, as long as you ignore things like reality, like how gravity works. It's slow going, with halting progress. Luthor and J refuse to let anyone else even know the machine exists, so Bart, along with Oracle, Zatanna, and the Atom do most of the grunt work. 

Ever since they had started to build the time machine, Bart had what Richard called “history lessons.” J called it “storytime”. Either way, it involved learning the necessary information he needed to survive in the past, which was basically everything about superheroes. Bart loved it.  
His first lesson was a crash course in Superhero 101.  
J had grinned. "You know some about Barry Allen, right?" Bart nodded. "Well, what do you know about the original Flash?" Bart cocked his head. "Jay Garrick? First Flash?" Bart cocked his head a few more degrees. "World War II veteran? Had a silver helmet he wore?" Bart's head was nearly level with his shoulders. "JSA member?"  
Bart slowly shook his head.  
J sighed. "Okay, looks like we'll have to start with the basics. The first superheroes were called the mystery men. They were basically spies during WWII and occasionally soldiers.  
The Justice Society of America was the first large superhero team and was very successful. They fought Nazis, Russians, anyone who you can think of. They led the way for other superhero teams, in practically every country. As the world became more globalized, so did superhero teams. Previously, everything had been mostly regional. Only certain superheroes really had the abilities or jurisdiction to go all over the world. In the '90's the Justice League was established and quickly became the dominant hero team, due to 'heavy hitters' like Superman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Green Lantern, eventually Batman, and others." Bart pursed his lips. "And the Flash of course." J added hastily. Bart grinned.  
"For the short version, they kicked a lot of ass and eventually started taking on sidekicks and proteges. I was one of Batman's and so was Richard (obviously). A group of aliens called the Reach came to Earth and started their plan of taking over. They managed to get the founders of the Justice League, the core group to imprisoned for acts they committed under mind control on a different planet. This destabilized the League and left other heroes to defend the Earth. The Reach managed to place key figures in our political system and created uproars against mutants. They also began to manufacture a soft drink with Lexcorp that made the population more susceptible to their promises and increased the aggression of many with some weird Alien chemical voodoo. You've probably had some; you just didn't know it.   
After the Watchtower bombing took out most of the dwindling numbers in the Justice League, things had steadily started to get worse for all the heroes. The heavy hitters were dwindling out, as the Reach targeted the big powers and big groups first. The supervillain group known as the Light hacked the Watchtower files and zeta tubes, before the explosion, to help the Reach catch other groups of superheroes. Those who remained tried to stand tall against the Reach, but public outrage forced many to go underground. Those who didn’t were killed in “accidents” or “voluntarily” renounced all vigilante activities.  
The Batcave was destroyed and ransacked. The Hall of Justice was bombed in protest against metahumans. Power Girl was killed by a rampaging super villain turned vigilante. Those among her teammates, in the Justice Society, who fight were also killed.   
Green Arrow was blackmailed, mind controlled and forced to condemn all vigilante activities.  
The Green Lanterns were ordered to go back to Oa and to avoid all contact with the Reach. They were forced to abandon their planet. They spent years petitioning the Guardians of the Universe, but no help was given to Earth. The Guardians cite the treaty made long ago with the Reach. The Earth invited the Reach, and so the Green Lanterns can give no help. If they do, the terms of the treaty are void and the Reach are free to pillage the universe at will, resulting in another costly war.   
Nowadays, North and South America is controlled by Blue Beetle. You know that. What you don't know is Blue Beetle was a member of Young Justice, an younger group of Justice League proteges. Yeah, Blue Beetle used to be a hero. So when you go back in time, you'll be joining his old team. You will be changing a series of events to make sure that the Reach isn't successful. The theory is that this will change the future, or our present.  
If that fails, you have to do what needs to be done."  
Bart narrows his eyes, a very Bat-like reaction to sudden revelations. "You want me to kill him?"  
"If necessary." His jaw is tight, and his eyes are cold. Bart can tell he’s had to do what he deemed was necessary before to deal with a problem.  
"How old will he be?"  
"Not much older than you." It is a monstrous thing they are asking Bart to do and Jason knows it. He doesn't like it.   
Bart doesn’t like it either. His face blanches slightly, as it starts to really sink in: he’s going to be changing the world. And he might have to kill to do it.  
“Look, Bart. You know what the Reach does. They move from world to world, using up all the resources and then going onto the next. Instead of becoming more efficient and reusing materials, this is what their society evolved into. They are the sentient version of parasites, and all they know how to do is take. Already, the Earth’s atmosphere is being polluted, and there is less oxygen. Plants and trees are dying, because the Reach is taking minerals and nutrients out of the soil, to construct gigantic plants. Our population is compliant to this because it’s happened on a much smaller scale with companies. As long as our top leaders in government are controlled, the Reach can do whatever they want."  
“What happens when we run out of things they can take?"  
“That’s when they start on our most valuable resource. People. Slave labor. That's what they do with prisoners, in work camps."

Bart learns that the reality of being a meta is different than what everyone is told. The meta gene just predicts that someone can develop superpowers if put into a high stress situation. It tests for the potential, not necessarily the actual presence of powers.  
The Reach tells the public 12% of the population tests positive for it, but those numbers are vastly underestimated. Most of the population has the potential to test for powers; it’s just some powers are determined to be less useful than others by the Reach. Most of the time it’s easy to tell someone has powers. Speedsters have an abnormally high heart rate, invulnerable skin can’t be broken by a needle, mind readers have strange brain activity, fast healers have higher stem cell counts than normal humans; the list of tells goes on and on.  
The Reach likes to experiments with different humans and different powers, to see which can be useful. It’s easier for the Reach to call the meta gene something that only metahumans have. It divides the population between us and them. Between the freaks and those who are called normal.  
It makes it easier for normal people to turn on their neighbors and to condone public executions.

The time machine is almost finished when J takes Bart to a clandestine meeting. Bart is normally kept locked up in headquarters, to protect him. (This of course drives him crazy. J makes sure to keep him busy.) Today, however, J tells his too wear something warm after they have a dinner of cheese sandwiches with Ray, Richard, and Zatanna.   
The bar was run down and ugly. It was a frequent meeting place for refugees, who had managed to escape the punishment of the Reach, for now. It was difficult to tell if the customers were really former prisoners, or just planted spies who gathered intel for the Reach. It wasn't an uncommon practice.  
They were meeting a former political prisoner, who had vital information about recent shuffling around in the People's Army's command structure.  
Bart glanced at the weaponry J had hidden under his coat, or rather, the lack of it. J never went anywhere without weapons. He even showered with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. He always, always had weapons with him.  
When they had prepped for the mission, J had waved him away from the stun guns and various electrified weapons, and Bart had reluctantly complied.  
So, their lack of weapons was very strange. Strange and worrying. It couldn't be anything good.  
The informant was younger than he expected.  
He had brown hair and a weird accent. He told Jay and Bart about the reshufflings going on in the Army's rank. Promotions, supplies ordered to places, the commissioning of new star ships. None of it seemed good. Still, Bart wasn't sure what it all meant.   
As he and Jay walked back to the base, Jay explained. "The Reach is changing their strategy, regarding Earth. Something big is changing. The primary use of Earth as a resource for slave labor and building materials is being changed into something else."  
"What does that mean for the Resistance?"  
"I don't know, kid. But I don't think it's anything good."  
They travel back to headquarters, going through dirty alleyways and over buildings to loose any possible tails.  
Their headquarters is kept locked tightly down, and the location changes every few weeks. Only a very small number of people are even allowed to know that it exists, much less where it is. To many, the Resistance is a faceless entity that survives off of internet forums and communications in public message boards. But somehow, someone has found them. The core of the resistance: J and Richard. The last few heroes left.   
They go in the back entrance, cautiously. They take weapons off the bodies of guards in the entry way. Bart tries to use his superspeed to rush through the building, but can't; his heart feels too weak.   
He barely keeps himself from shrieking when they see Richard's body, face down in a puddle of blood. J gasps "Damian," and checks his pulse. Then he shakes his head. J looks at Bart and grimly sets his jaw. "Stay back here." Bart refuses and follows, barely keeping himself from throwing up.   
J takes out his communicator and contacts Oracle, giving her the situation and asking for an extraction, as he moves towards the secret basement where the time machine is kept. They key in the code and open the hidden door. The time machine is smashed. Worst of all, all blueprints and files are destroyed. They have electronic copies of course, but the majority of their notes were there. Still, they can rebuild.  
Of course, that's when they hear the cries of distress from Oracle. On her end, the temporary Watchtower she had been living in is being attacked. They hear a door getting kicked down and shouts to surrender. Oracle shouts over the sound of a scuffle "You have to still build it. Please, you can stop this, Jason promise me!"  
His voice tight, Jason promises Babs to save her and their family. All of their friends. They'll go back and no one will have to die.  
They hear a gunshot wound and then silence. Footsteps shuffle over. They hear an unfamiliar voice. "She's dead."  
Someone else snickers. "Good riddance. Now we just gotta destroy all of her computer equipment."  
Jason switches off the communicator and turns to Bart. His face is like stone. "It must have been Luthor, who betrayed us."  
Bart nods. He always thought so.

They quickly go through the building, gathering the necessary equipment to undercover. They also look for anyone living. They find Zatanna in a stairway, with the bodies of soldiers all around her. She threw every spell she had at them, but it wasn't enough. They quickly check surveillance camera footage. Hours before, they see it. The Atom making a call and soldiers surrounding the building. Ray Palmer coding in his access codes and destroying the time machine.  
Bart turns to J. "I don't understand. Why would he do that? To us? To everyone who can't be saved now?"  
J furrows his brow. "I don't know... well. There were reports, after his ex wife disappeared, along time ago. Sometimes they kidnap family members for leverage against heroes. We would have helped him rescue her, but he never asked. He must have been a spy the whole time, in exchange for his wife's safety."  
Bart sighed. "I understand why he would do that for his family, but man, I really hate him right now."  
Jason just looks at him. "Desperate people can do bad, bad things."

They leave the building along with the supplies to go underground. As they walk, J looks at him."Bart, I think it's time I tell you about what happened to my family." His face is tense. "My real name is Jason Todd, and I was the second Robin. My mentor was one of the League members who were executed on Rimbor. You know that. What you don't know is my older brother, I guess, died protecting his team. My other brother, Tim, was captured while deep undercover. They were all smart, brave, and relatively sane. Not like me and Damian. We'd always been the crazy ones, who everyone expected to kill ourselves or somebody else. It's ironic isn't it? The two most likely to die somehow survive. Bruce always seemed to have more lives than could ever be taken, Tim was always so careful, and Dick." He sighed. "Dick always seemed too... alive to ever die. But life isn't simple. Sometimes even all the training and preparation in the world can't save you. Sometimes, it really is up to fate. Even for metas, kid. Fate gets us all, eventually. So, I want you to remember: if you finish this, if you use the time machine, you'll get to see us again. And I believe you can do it Bart."  
He smiles sadly at Bart.  
Bart smiles back, and of course, in this one moment that hasn't been terrible, disaster again strikes. A squad of soldiers that had been doing another sweep of the building rounds a corner. J is in front of Bart as they open fire. Bart tries to move them both, but somehow he is too slow. The bullets enter his body in three different places, killing him instantly.   
In the split second as his new mentor falls to the ground dead, Bart prepares to run away from family, again. This time he can't. Panic or shock or something. But then he remembers the dinner they had. That the Atom had gotten water for all of them. His had been drugged. As much as Bart wants to run away and mourn the loss of yet another mentor, he can't.  
As Bart stares down at Jason, he mourns all the friends he's made, the life he had. The life he could have had in the future. There's no hope now. The wound of Max's death, and his father's, and his mother's all seem to open. The only reason he's been able to function this past month sis the thought of seeing them again and saving their lives in the past.   
The guards cuff him and put an inhibitor collar on him. He can only stare at the growing puddle of blood on the floor.   
If only he had been faster. If only he hadn't been stupid enough to let himself get drugged, like an idiot. If only he had been stronger, braver.   
If only he had been better they wouldn't have died. He wouldn't have a trail of bodies left in his wake, like some kind of natural disaster, destroying everything he touched.


	3. What We Do to Survive

III. What We Do To Survive

 

Later the Atom is announced to be the last remaining hero and killed.

The event is televised and claimed as the extermination of the last strains of the Resistance in the Republic. He is killed via lethal injection, in a "humane death". Bart is already weeks into his new life as a prisoner when it occurs. He finds out when the guards toast to the death of the meta terrorists and the long life of Blue Beetle.

He tries to feel triumphant, but he can't. 

 

After the Resistance headquarters are attacked and raided, Bart is loaded into the back of a police truck. Inhibitor cuffs are snapped onto his wrists, a now standard precaution after the Police Bombing in '34. The truck begins to drive with a bump. As they travel, other people are shoved into the seats and clipped into the restraints near him. Instead of staring at a wall and contemplating his life now, Bart tries to distract himself. 

"Who are you?" He whispers to a young girl. She looks to be only around ten years old. She glances at him and shakes her head.

"No talking!" A guard barks and Bart reluctantly complies.

The ride seems to last hours. The guards don't really mention anything about where they are going. 

The prisoners are taken to a work camp in Blue Beetle’s district and herded into a dirty, disillusioned pack outside of the gates. Bart cranes his head forward, trying to see what is going on. Ahead of him, a family is standing together all with similar looking features. A young girl is being examined, a handheld scanner passing the length of her body.

The scientist looks up. He says something, and the family immediately reacts violently. Her mother screams and reaches to her daughter, but she is held back by a guard. The father struggles against a guard and is hit with a stun baton. He falls, and the scientist motions at a guard. The father is dragged away, along with the mother. The little girl is carried to the right side, as she screams for her parents.

In the line, no one reacts. Bart's eyes widen. He's been out of the city and society for a while, but this can't be something that considered normal.

He pokes the man in front of him. "What was that?"

The man turns slightly and shakes his head at Bart.

"Tell me." Bart demands.

"Shut up." The man hisses. "Are you trying to get killed?"

"Is that what happened to that little girl? Is she gonna die?"

The man looks at him incredulously. "She's a meta, she's being taken, you idiot, for the 'glory of the empire.'"

"What?" Bart's voice has raised above a whisper. "What does that mean?"

A armored guard walks toward them, his weapon in hand. Under his helmet, Bart fancies he can see eyes passing back and forth. Bart shuts up.

As the line progresses, Bart tries to hide his shaking hands. Whatever is for the glory of the Reach empire can't be good.

The scientist-looking one holds up a scanner and runs it over Bart. He looks at the results for what seems like hours. "Non-meta." His voice is dispassionate.

Bart furrows his eyebrows slightly. He definitely is a meta (last time he checked). Was the sensor somehow not picking it up? Then he looks at the scientist, nervously avoiding eye contact. Why would this scientist lie for him?

Those who test positive are shuffled off to one side of the gate, while negatives go to the other.

Bart follows the negatives, sneaking glances at the man who saved him all the while.

 

Inside the force field fence, the negatives huddle together in a group.

"What's going on? What is this?"

A woman with blond hair looks at him. "It's a work camp. We've been sentenced to work for the Reach."

"Doing what?"

"Here we make weapons. Them?" She gestures her head to the right, where Bart can see struggling children being herded into a transport vehicle. "They being taken, probably for the Reach's sick experiments."

The negatives are then ushered into a 'welcoming area' where they are given a prisoner id, a change of clothes, and go through a cursory medical exam. Bart watches silently as the nurse marks down his heart rate as 70 beats per minute, dozens below his actual resting heartbeat. Bart winces at each shot, but endures. 

Hours layer, Bart falls asleep in his narrow bunk, head spinning. It's been a long day.

 

They are awoken by a loud horn scarce hours later. The guards shout and yell. The rush outside and are told to make a formation. The prisoners make an attempt at order, standing arms length from each other and staring straight ahead, bodies stiff. 

The guards read off prisoner's numbers, noting every here.

Bart shivers slightly in the cold dewy morning, as they read down the list. Finally, they get to a name and no one responds with "present!" The name is repeated, yet still no response. The guards murmur, and then the prisoner whose number they called off calls "here." The guards glare and ask why he was late.

He had to go to the bathroom and didn't hear the call to form up, he claims. This answer isn't good enough for the guards. In front of everyone, they whip with with 20 lashes as a punishment. Bart twitches with every stroke, fighting the urge to rush over with superspeed and protect the man. But he can't. The second he uses his powers here he is dead. The guards are everywhere, with the prisoners given almost no privacy. 

He can only stand and watch.

After it's over, Bart moves next to the closed person who doesn't look completely terrified. "Do we have to do this role call every morning?"

The man sighed. "Every morning and night."

"Twice a day? Is that really necessary?

"It's not necessary. It's physiological. They injected us with trackers in processing. The only reason they do the role call is to make us feel like prisoners. And to punish those who don't behave in front of everyone."

Bart shuffles off to breakfast of a thick bland oatmeal like substance and water, mind teeming.

 

Each group of prisoners is hustled through a quick breakfast. They aren't allowed to talk or even make eye contact with anyone. They just eat their bland meals in silence.

After the meal, the prisoners are ushered back to the barracks. Guards begin to read off prisoner's number's and taking their assigned groups to their workstations for the day. 

Bart is given a job putting together parts of a gun.

 

He is pulled aside by the scientist who saved his life the day before. He looks nervous. Bart doesn’t trust him. “Why did you say I was a non-meta?”

The man looks slightly startled. “I saved you.”

Bart narrows his eyes. “Yeah, so? What? Do you wanna prize for it?”

“No.” The scientist already doesn’t like him. “I need you, for tests.”

“Tests? Like experiments.” Is this guy serious? “Are you gonna dissect me? Try to get a look in my brain?

"Look." The scientist narrows his eyes at Bart. "You have to let me perform these tests on you. I saved your life. I'm keeping you from fighting for the Reach. And I still could turn you in."

Bart snorted. "And risk being labeled a liar? I don't think so. I'll let you perform these tests, on one condition. You get me whatever I ask for, whenever I need it."

"What? I saved your life." His outrage angers Bart.

His reaction is sharper than intended. "Do you know what they do to traitors?" The man's face went pale. "I'm prepared to fight on the front lines. But are you prepared to die?"

"I-" He sighs. "I don't have any other choice do I?"

Bart shrugs. "I suppose not."

"What will you need?"

"I'll tell you when I need it."

 

Every couple of days he is sent to the medical building. He is recorded as having diabetes, to explain the regular visits. The scientist so far hasn’t asked for anything too scary. He takes blood sample, listen to Bart’s heart rate and makes noisy exclamations over things like respiration rates, lactic acid depletion and other things Bart doesn’t understand.

He asks what exactly the experiments are for.  

The scientist smiles, a light in his eyes that makes Bart uneasy. "I want to study how metas work. If we could discover how the meta gene and superpowers work, we could manipulate genes to grow a new race of superhumans. Speedsters are… especially fascinating. I'm already conducting some studies on other type of metas, the ones working here at camp.”

Bart fakes interest, but is already plotting ways to discover the other metas.  

Bart inhales, and mentally reviews the blueprints in his mind. He had work to do. He's going to need supplies, a place to build, and for that he's going to need allies.

He has decided that he needs to build the time machine, in the camp somehow. He has to. He can't survive like this. He has to try or his life isn't worth it. 

 

The camp is for political ‘traitors’, metas who the scientists have claimed as normals to experiment on, and the occasional meta who is deemed too old or too useless to whatever the Reach were using metas for.

The camp is surrounded by a force field, that keeps anyone from entering. Or exiting.

The Reach calls the people in the camp traitors, but that’s really just a generic term that means someone who goes against the Reach. Many of the prisoners had committed thought crimes at worst. 

The camp is built near the ruins of Mount Justice, something the Reach must have found delightfully ironic.

 

It's three weeks into Bart's stay at the camp when he discovers the man in the bunk next to him is a meta. The man, he discovers, was named Neutron. 

At the name, Bart glares. "You killed the Flash." 

The man balks, claiming it was an accident, by citing the conditions he experienced as a flunky for the super villian group the Light. That they had tormented him, mentally, to get him to go crazy and kill the Flash. 

Bart decides he doesn't like him.

But he could be useful. "Do you want to change that? With your help, I can make it never happen."

 

Bart looks around at the group Neutron has gathered around him in the dead of night. They are all dirty, and weathered- the stress of their years etched on their faces. Just a group of adults, workers. "I'm building a time machine."

The reaction is instantaneous.

The other workers start viciously whispering; someone snickers, thinking it’s a joke.

Neutron shushes the group. “Kid tell them, why exactly, do you think you can build a time machine?”

“I memorized the blueprints for the design. I can build it.”

“Where did you even get access to designs like that?”

Bart sighed. “It’s not exactly today's technology.”

“What? What does that mean?” One of the older woman stands, her features suspicious.

“Some is Earth technology from the future and some is magic.” He looks at their faces. "Literal magic."

“Once again, how the hell did you get access to designs like that?”

“From the same people who taught me to fight, who taught me how to shoot, and how to lie my way out of any situation: the Resistance.”

“It exists?”

“Yeah. It does. Or at least, it did. I’m not so sure what happened to it now. I was caught in a major bust. The two leaders died, but they had a no extra contact policy with other people, so the Reach can’t find all of the members. They were really careful. Of course, that didn’t save them.”

The woman narrows her eyes. "How can we be sure you are telling the truth? Maybe you are a spy for the Reach trying to see who would help you betray the empire."

Neutron sighs. "Lena, he's telling the truth."

"What?" The workers gawk at him. 

A man with heavy facial hair joins Lena in playing Devil's advocate. "How do you know that?"

"I killed his Grandfather. I know." Most of the workers look confused at this.

Bart sighs. "I'm a speedster. My Grandfather was the Flash. I grew up with superheroes."

Lena raises an eyebrow. "If you're a meta with an inhibitor collar why can't you escape?"

"I can't. If I use superspeed and am seen I won't be able to escape because of the force field. Also, the guards constantly scan random people as metas. The only reason I wasn't sent with the others is because the camp doctor wants to do experiments on me."

One speaks up. "You said magic? How, exactly are we going to do that?"

There's silence. Bart furrows his brow, preparing to tell these people this is a last resort plan. That for him, it's try again or don't have a reason to live anymore. Another woman, with chocolate skin and wise eyes, speaks up. "I know some magic. My mother taught it to me. I might be able to do this."

Bart sighs in relief. Somehow, he has the beginnings of a plan. 

 

After Bart leaves to slip into his bunk, Neutron calls the group together again. He tells them. "We can't let him get caught. This future has to change. He can do that."

They all nod.

 

They start to build more important parts of the time machine in small pieces. Each person holds onto one piece, to minimize the damage if one of them gets caught. The machine is their only hope. They get parts from anywhere they can. They take strips of wire from their work during the day, and tiny screwdrivers. The stuff that is too hard for them to obtain, like the power cells Bart will be plugged into, the doctor who uses Bart for experiments obtains. Enduring needle pricks and occasionally painful experiments is worth it for a better future. 

The time machine is all many of them have left. Bart knows this and tells everyone who has a piece they must protect it with their lives. When they start to build the machine, they build it in plain sight. The doctor authorizes it as an x-ray machine, to examine patients. That's how they manage to work on it right in front of the guards. Of course, some parts have to be built and installed in secret, because they clearly shouldn't be part of an x-ray machine (even if the guards have no idea what one actually is.)

Every time their work is inspected at the end of each day, Bart barely manges to suppress a panic attack, always thinking that one day, they'll realize.

Somehow the guards don't. (Of course, it probably has something to do with the magic Alicia uses to confuse the guards.)

 

He starts to teach as many of the others as he can of the blueprints. Although he is the one supposed to go back in time, nothing is certain. He could die or be discovered at any moment.

The others know this, and they treat his life as precious. Neutron gives him some of his rations at mealtime, claiming they are left over.

The machine is ridiculously basic compared to the time machine he almost finished with J. It is held together by magic, duct tape, and Super Glue. The question isn't really if it'll work, but if it'll let him survive the trip to the past. 

 

It's a month into making the machine and Bart is barely holding himself together. Their plan is on schedule and has been meticulously thought out. Everything seems to be going as well as it could be. Still, Bart is firmly in survival mode.

 

He is constantly stressed and spends his time obsessively going over the design for the machine in his head. He resists the urge to check on the pieces each person has, as they install them into the machine and treat them with a spell. He is hyper alert at all times.

The others see it, and they surround him with as much support as they can give in a concentration camp. Lena (of course) is the only one who insists of treating him with her usual disdainful attitude. Bart can't figure out if she hates metas in general, or just him.

She is skeptical of everything. The time machine, those in their group, the plan he has of what to change in the past. When he explains that the time machine is powered off of his energy, the huge amounts of kinetic energy he can generate just by vibrating one finger, she scoffs. She snickers at the discussions of magic the others hold and rolls her eyes when they provide support to Bart. The one thing she does seem to enjoy is building a time machine right under the noses of the guards for the Reach. 

 

The time machine is almost finished when disaster strikes.

The camp warden makes an announcement to the guards. Blue Beetle is scheduled to perform a routine inspection of the camp. She tells the guards the camp has to look perfect, and the inmates have to act perfect, as well. 

 

One of the elderly ladies hears two guards discussing it outside the sleeping huts. Her bunk is next to a wall with a hole in it, and she likes to look out sometimes. She just happened to overhear the conversation. The guards gossip that there hasn't been an inspection with an official as highly ranked as Blue Beetle, ever. Something big must be going on, and it couldn't come at a worse time. 

Neutron knows this means they are running out of time and have a strict deadline to complete the time machine.

Bart knows this means they are going to get caught.

In the days leading up to the event, the guards are going to be cracking down on even the slightest insubordination. Before, they could get away with enough to make progress on the machine, but that was when the guards didn't have the specter of Blue Beetle hovering over them; bribery won't work now.

 

It is after the camp inspection when Bart finally sees Blue Beetle. They are lined up in formation when he Bart sees him. 

Blue Beetle smiles, teeth sharp and white. "Thank you, Warden Jones. I believe this inspection has been satisfactory, and this camp will updated to Class 2 status, with a reassigned mission."

The inmates stay perfectly still, barely daring to even breath, eyes desperately straining forward. They all crane to listen.

Jones is wide eyed. "Thank you sir. We are truly honored." The Warden continues to lavish praise and exclamations of gratitude on Blue Beetle, as Bart contemplates this news.

Whatever the Reach classifies as an upgrade can't be good.

It meant increased activity in the camp, which meant less opportunities to put spells onto the machine to work and to obtain the stranger parts they need to complete the time machine.

They won't be able to make it in time.

 

When Bart tells his group this they are outraged. Alicia shakes her head, John protests, Abigail sighs. But then the last person Bart expected to fight for the time machine speaks up. "Do you know what the Reach does to metas, Bart? They take your body- meat they call it- experiment on you, shut off your mind, implant a chip in your body, and when you are deemed ready, you are sent into space as the Reach's personal army to conquer and enslave other planets. That's the new strategic plan they are taling about. That's what this base is going to be turned into. A meat factory for the Reach's war. You know how I know this? They were going to do it to me, but I was too messed up. My mind couldn't take the stress of brainwashing. I couldn't be turned into a mindless meat puppet, to fight for the Reach. People, children, are going to die, Bart. That is what you have to stop, Bart. All this suffering, all this death. You can stop it." Her voice grows enraged. "You can't just give up."  

They all look at her in shock. 

Bart is still not convinced and says so before walking away. 

 

Later in the day, they are standing in role call formation before their pathetic excuse for a dinner. 

One of the top guards questions the prisoners. "Who has been stealing mechanical parts?"

The young guard with the large brown eyes points toward Bart. "I saw him playing around with some kind of wire or something in his bunk."

Bart stands, frozen as the guard began to walk towards him, gun raising higher and higher. It points straight at his forehead, and he can only stay frozen, his mind teeming.

A voice calls out from the middle of the group. "I did it. It was me." Lena emerges. "I stole wires, screwdrivers, and other things." Bart stares in shock.

A hand pulls him back into the crowd, as the guards focus their attention on Lena. "I did it. I confess. I am a thief."

"You know what the punishment for thieves is."

Lena holds her head high, but her fingers start to shake. "I do."

"Then why would you confess?" The blond guard, the one with the cruel eyes.

Her eyes flick to the crowd. "Because it is the right thing to do. I know better then to steal from the great and powerful Reach Empire. I dishonor the Sacred Scarab."

He glares suspiciously, but accedes. "Do it." He nods to a young guard. He pulls out his gun, and a tear slips down Lena's face.

"No! It was me! She's lying!" Bart starts to scream, but he can't. A hand is held over his mouth, and an elbow around his neck keeps him in place. He squirms desperately as the guard raises his weapon.

"Listen to me. Bart!" A voice hisses in his ear. "We cannot loose you. The only one who can stop this from happening is you. Change the past, Bart. "

 

Bart only increases his struggles.

The guard is pulling back the trigger.

He hears a sigh.

"You leave us no choice."

The bullet flies. Bart is hit in the forehead. Everything falls, suddenly, mercifully, black.

 

He awakes slowly. He lies still as he listens to his surroundings, the product of a lifetime of paranoia.

"We know you're awake." Bart slowly sits up, surveying the group in front of him.  Neutron is in front.

"Bart. We need you. We have to finish this time machine."

The fuzziness is slow to leave his mind. "I don't think we can do this.”

Neutron looked at him, eyes sad. "Sometimes heroes can be the most ordinary of people. Like Lena. You have to do this for her, Bart. She sacrificed herself, for you and for the future. We have to honor that sacrifice."

He thinks of those who have died for a better future. Then he thinks of those whose deaths could have been prevented. For Lena, he decides. 

 

Blue Beetle's presence in the camp is as yet unseen, but clearly felt. The guards scuttled around, barking awards, like ants trying to avoid the stomp of a giant foot. The prisoners in the camp were made to rehearse the ceremony over and over again, pledging allegiance to the Republic of North and South America, hailing President Smith as their glorious leader. The camp officials not important enough to be in the briefing practiced their salutes to the Honorable Blue Beetle. 

In morning formation, Blue Beetle is standing at the front. He looks over all of the prisoners, lingering long enough to make each sweat. He pauses on Bart for what seems like years. After he's done Bart can swear he still feels the creeping feeling of being stared at. 

 

After, Bart slips into the barracks, and freezes. Blue Beetle was standing next to his bunk. He was even huger up close and much more intimidating.

"Sir." Bart nods his head and make to leave as quickly as possible.

"Stop." It was quiet, yet clearly a command.

Bart froze. His heartbeat revved as his muscles twitched in an urge to flight. Slow, deliberate footsteps walk towards his back. He turns around, keeping his eyes down. "Yes sir?"

"There's something about you. You seem," Eyes narrow. "Familiar somehow. What is your name?"

Bart's breath catches in his throat. "Bartholomew Allen, sir."

His brow furrows. "Somehow the name isn't familiar. But it feels like it should be. Strange. Why are you familiar to me, little one?"

Bart shrugs, almost hyperventilating as Blue Beetle strokes one finger down his cheek. "Well, you have answered my questions. Fairs fair. I will answer one of yours in return."

Bart frowns at him, but decides to take the opportunity to gain knowledge he's been given. "Why are the Reach doing this? Why spend all this energy making soldiers when you aren't allowed to conquer planets?"

Blue Beetle smiled, orange eyes slit like a cats. "Who said we aren't? The Guardians? When our army is complete no one, not even the Guardians of the Universe, will have the necessary meat to stop us. We are more and we are stronger. They stand no chance. They will not beat us again. We will conquer Oa first and take it is a host planet."

Bart's jaw clenches tighter and tighter as Blue Beetle tells him terrible things, delighting in the rage and terror in his eyes.

 

Later, Bart rushes into the barracks, heading straight for Neutron. They have been so careful, avoiding all contact with each other lest they arouse suspicion. But this is too important.

"We need to move. Soon."

Neutron looks at him, startled, and nods. They'll discuss more later.

In the night Bart slips out of the barracks to go to the bathroom. Neutron follows. Bart tells him of the situation, how the base is going to be crawling with security in several hours.

They need to finish the time machine before the guards discover what it really is. 

 

The next morning they are finishing work on the "x-ray machine". Blue Beetle makes the rounds, examining each of the prisoner's projects. Bart panics with each step that brings him closer and closer to the time machine and to discovery. 

Blue Beetle merely inspects it without a comment. Bart is flabbergasted and can't believe their luck. Then his mouth drops open. Did Blue Beetle just wink at him? 

 

Later, in the dead of night, Bart and Neutron sneak out of the barracks and to the work area, carefully avoiding all of the patrols. They have it practically down to a science now. 

Neutron hands Bart the device to take away his powers. Bart's first task is saving his Uncle's life. Bart changes into the jumpsuit that one of the ladies made for him and puts on the goggles they stole. He says goodbye and then looks around at the world and people he is leaving.

It's not much of a loss.

Bart steps into the time machine and prepares to change his present.

 

Months later, Bart had changed his future.

He had prevented tragedy, the massacre of nearly all the heroes of Earth.

But was it really worth it?

He had a feeling Earth had managed to survive one threat, only to come under fire from another.

The next year would be anything but easy.


End file.
